The personality of the wolf when he was a child is now in pieces, and there is almost nothing that should be preserved. I just feel the cool wind blowing by, leaving behind only a piece of ripeness waiting for harvest. The current wolf constantly disgusts me, disgusts me, and makes me feel dead. There is almost nothing to be proud of. It's as if the cold wind blows through the illusory golden autumn, and the noise is gone, leaving only the ruins of reality. But I still have to look for something in the darkness... Wait for something... Will I still have a transitional mood? You never know... When you know, it's called the future